


A Very Merry 'Once Upon A DEADPOOL' Christmas

by RedAndBlackInk



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:18:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedAndBlackInk/pseuds/RedAndBlackInk
Summary: Fred Savage and several other celebrities try to escape from a dark basement that Deadpool is holding them captive in.





	1. In a Pit of Despair with a Pitt in Despair

It was a surprisingly large basement. Large and dark, thought Fred Savage. There was a damp, musty smell in the air and the sound of dripping water coming from somewhere nearby. He shivered as a draft blew over him from the shadowy recesses. He and several others were huddled around the light of slowly dying cellphone, clinging to the last minutes of sight they would get before being plunged into total darkness. 

“So,” said Fred, “How long have you guys been here?”

“Weeks?” said Brad Pitt, “Months? Years maybe. It's hard to say.”

“It can't have been too long.” Fred pointed to the cellphone (on 5%) “I've never had a phone that lasted more than a day or two without charging.”

Celine Dion shook her head slowly and spoke in a low and melodious voice. “We've been rationing the light. We only turn it on for an hour each day so that we don't go crazy.” 

“Doesn't look like it helped him.” Fred said, nodding toward Matt Damon. The movie star was sitting with his knees folded up in front of him, rocking and murmuring unintelligibly. 

“He's been like this since I got here.” Brad said with a shrug. “He's been down here longer than any of us.”

Matt Damon was almost unrecognizable. At first Fred had thought this was because of prosthetics, or make-up, but after a careful study had realized that it was because he had grown a beard. Fred had never seen or even imagined, Matt Damon with a beard. No, he thought, he might have had one in The Martian, I must have just blocked it out. 

Fred heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his legs. The feeling was beginning to come back at last, painfully. Brad had graciously given Fred his pants, and was himself sitting quite comfortably in nothing but a speedo. 

“You've tried the cellphone, right?” Fred asked.

Celine and Brad stared at him blankly for a full minute. 

“Oh.” said Brad, “You mean to call for help?”

“Obviously I mean to call for help!” Fred exploded.

Brad looked hurt at the severity of his tone. 

“There isn't any service.” Celine said, her voice husky and mournful.

“What about escape?” Fred asked, “We aren't chained up or anything. Has anyone tried just... leaving?”

“We've tried...” said Brad, “But he won't let us.”

“Guns...” murmured Matt, “guns, guns, guns, so many guns...”

“Oh give it a rest!” Brad snapped at him.

Celine put a gentle hand on Brad's shoulder.

“We're all a little on edge. None of us can remember the last time we ate.” she said in quiet and beautiful tones.

At that Fred felt a savage twist of fear in his gut. He was going to starve to death down here. He had been promised a cup of coffee, (That was how that red psychopath had lured him down here to begin with – not that he'd been in a position to put up much of a fight anyhow.) but he, like the others, had seen neither hide nor hair of anything resembling food or drink in a precious long time. He stared wide eyed into empty space for a long moment, trying to come to terms with the approaching end of his existence. 

“This isn't happening...” he whispered. But unfortunately, it was. 

A warning message popped up on the cell phone: 'battery at 2% cellphone will power off in 5 minutes.' Fred knew they had nowhere near that long. Those messages were never accurate. He could feel panic beginning to overtake him. Once the light was gone, they would all go the way of Matt Damon, slipping slowly into madness until they were all slobbering wrecks. They would shiver and mutter in the darkness until finally the darkness took them.

Suddenly, his survival instincts kicked in.

“No!” he said aloud. This was not how he was going to go out! He was not going to die in some lunatic's cellar, starving and insane. He was going to die like a man! Deadpool had guns? Well Fred had... had... nothing really, but that wasn't going to stop him! If he died trying to fight his way past that monster, well at least he would go out in a blaze of glory! He stood.

“I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting out of here!”


	2. Celine Dion Plagiarizes Adele

Brad and Celine looked at Fred like he was crazy. (Matt Damon looked like he was crazy.) 

“Are you out of your mind?” Brad hissed. 

With all that had happened to him in the past few days, Fred wasn't really sure that he wasn't out of his mind. One day he had been living his reasonably happy, famous-but-not-too-famous life, and the next he was being kidnapped by some character from a comic book movie. 

“Probably.” he said, “Are you coming with me?”

Brad and Celine held a hasty, whispered conference. Fred shuffled his feet. He really didn't want to go alone, but he would if he had to. Finally, Celine spoke, her voice melodious.

“We will come with you.”

“Anything is better than waiting down here to starve.” Brad added. 

They all looked at Matt, who was still muttering and seemed totally oblivious of them. 

“I guess we'll have to leave him here.” Fred said reluctantly. He wanted nothing more than to bring him along, but it was too risky. This was going to be a stealth mission, and Matt wasn't exactly in stealth mode. Fred knelt down next to him and whispered a few quiet words to him. The expression on Matt's face didn't change. Fred stood slowly and led the way into the darkness. He only looked back once at the muttering figure, hunched over the light of the dying cellphone. He repeated the words quietly to himself. 

“I'll come back for you. I promise.”

The quiet echoes of their footsteps hissed and faded into the unseen recesses of the far corners of the basement. Fred walked ahead, shuffling his feet carefully, waiting at any moment to run into a wall or stack of boxes or something. But the basement seemed to stretch on forever. 

“How big is this place anyways?” Brad asked.

Fred shrugged a reply, but no one could see it in the darkness. 

“Does it ever end?” Celine asked in a musical, perfect voice.

Fred wished they had some light. The cellphone's glow had flickered out behind them, whether from distance or because it had finally run out of battery, Fred didn't know. Either way, he was glad that Matt at least had been able to enjoy the last few moments of light. 

Finally, he stubbed his toe against something.

He grunted in pain.

“What? What is it?” Brad asked.

“I think I found a wall or something.” Fred spoke through gritted teeth. He reached out with his hands. There was nothing. Carefully, he felt his way forward with his foot. Not a wall, stairs! He had found the way out! Hope leapt in his heart. “Come on!” he hissed. 

But he only made it up three steps before a voice spoke out of the darkness behind them. 

“Well just where the fuck do you think you're going, Fred?”

Brad and Celine gasped in unison. Fred turned around slowly. They all recognized that voice, though all that could be seen were two, glowing, white eyes. They stood out cartoonishly in the darkness of the basement. 

“Deadpool!” said Fred.

“Deadpool!” said Brad.

“Hello.” said Celine Dion.

Deadpool shook his head and tsked sadly.

“And I thought we were friends now. Fred? We bonded over Nickleback? Don't you remember? Brad? I bought you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh so you got him coffee!” Fred said, throwing his hands in the air.

“Spiked coffee!” Brad protested. 

“I'm sorry, Deadpool.” Celine said, moving over to stand closer to the merc, “I stalled them as long as I could.”

Fred reeled. Celine Dion had betrayed them!

“You were working with him this whole time?” Brad exploded.

“I'm afraid so.” Celine replied.

“I trusted you! I told you my deepest, darkest secrets!”

“And now the whole world will know that your fursona is a blue owl named Ozymandias Deathbeak.” said Celine in a rich and creamy voice. 

“YOU BITCH!!!” Brad shouted. He leapt at Celine. There was a series of bright flashes and the deafening rattle of gunfire filled the basement. Fred ducked instinctively. When the shooting stopped, he looked up. By the light of Deadpool's glowing eyes he could make out a still form laying crumpled on the ground. Blood pooled across the cold floor.

“What the fuck?” Fred screamed, “You killed Brad Pitt!”

“Nobody fucks with Celine!” Deadpool screamed back, “She is a national fucking treasure! Besides, what kind of shit- brain thinks that an owl would make a good fursona? They don't even fucking have fur! They have feathers!”

Fred felt weak. Something hot dripped down his leg. He had pissed Brad Pitt's pants.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic. (Constructive) criticism is appreciated!


End file.
